


Hieroglyphs

by Filigranka



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Cynicism, Dubious Consent, Gallows Humor, Ghosts, Kylo's heroically trying (and failing) to be nice Hux's having none of it, M/M, Post-TRoS, The Force (probably) Doesn't Work This Way, almost canon compliant, except for Hux pulling "they killed him and then he escaped" card
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23519833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filigranka/pseuds/Filigranka
Summary: Hux had survived - only to fall into madness. Or so was he thinking.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33
Collections: Party in the GFFA: Star Wars Flash Exchange 2020





	Hieroglyphs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



‘I wonder if you hadn’t tried to get me killed, so I’d wait for you in the afterlife. Or as a sacrifice. On some prophetical whim of yours. Like a true emperor, buried with his servants, spouses and pets. And now, now you’re just finishing your job… And of course, you don’t even have decency to make it quick.’

Hux knew he was delirious, _half_ -delirious, and the only soul alive on this moon. But the shadows here seemed to listen.

‘Stop this.’

The shadows changed into Ren—or the thing wearing the holograph-like shape of his face, of his body; the ghost, the clone, the monster, the fragment of Hux’s distorted mind (“pick your poison, pick your poison, commander, sir, this one will make you sleep, this one will get you funny dreams, this one will make you feel nice, this one will keep you on your legs all night long, this one will take all pain away… My ‘ma taught me them before her brain rot out and I’m the bestest, sir, people on Jakku killed for my things, for real…”).

Except through his entire life, Ren had never really seemed to be so glowing, this pale face of his sunken in some darn corona of light, now. Like a mockery of all Hux’s efforts. He'd betrayed and murdered his own men—and it seemed even death couldn’t make this damn Force-crowned prince lose.

‘The man you knew isn’t here anymore,’ pleaded Ren.

‘I wish. Have wished for a long time. Alas.’ Hux spat.

There wasn’t much water in his spit and it looked—felt—rather pitiful: a long, gluey strain. He was getting dehydrated. Damn. There was quite a lot of water nearby, and the rain was falling regularly, but he needed to preserve the disinfecting pills. He didn’t want to waste what little fuel he had to boil water, not yet.

He didn’t want to try, only to discover the wounds he’d sustained while crashing on this damn Unknown Regions’ moon (well, not so Unknown for the First Order; they’d been there after Jakku’s battle, Hux remembered the charts) were actually too severe to move the canisters or construct anything. He hadn’t moved much since the crash of his cargo ship. He’d managed to shelter in a huge building, looking like a temple or a tomb, had made a camp of sorts in the first room-corridor, and hadn’t even tried to explore the rest of it.

He remembered the charts. The crew’s gossip, Chiss’ and Navigators’ murmurs and uneasy glances. It wasn’t a good place. Something-something about the Force and its darkest cults. Of course.

Lo and behold, they had been right. The sole fact of Ren’s post-mortem appearance would make this place “cursed” for Hux, but Ren appearing and being able to talk was way worse.  
  
‘I’m not him no more. Never really have been. The title and the masks Kylo Ren was died, fighting with—’

‘I like the logic. Do you think war tribunals also use it?’

There was a heartbeat of silence.

‘It’s not about mundane judgement. I also actually died, so the sacrifice and punishment—’

‘You died? Like, ceased to exist “died”? Funny, I could swear we’re talking.’

‘It doesn’t work this way for the Force. For me.’

Crowned prince, little crowned prince, the laws of the universe bending their knees for him. The best Hux could get for his heritage was a pack of wild children making him moonshine and narcotics when they had wanted him to sleep tight, so they could "talk about adult things.” Or when they had taken pity on him. Or got bored with babysitting, officially called “guarding.”

They were useful, Hux had to admit. Useful, and yet nothing compared to that thrice-damned Force, mocking him even now, taking away his little, childish, spiteful triumph. Ren died—and _yet._

‘The way Ren, I, treated… I’m sorry about what he did to the galaxy. To a lot of people. To you, too. I’m so sorry. The Dark Side, it’s… You can’t… I wish to compensate.’

Hux blinked. The world wasn’t looking quite right. Perhaps he ought to get started worrying more about that leg injury. Or a hand one. Come to think of it, he had been avoiding using the right, wounded hand for quite some time now, only changing the bandage quickly, and trying his best to keep it totally still, even though he always had taken drugs before. Bad sign.

‘Oh _great_. Could you start by cleaning some water? Boiling would work, too.’ He wished for one of Jakku’s poisons, the one which brought nice sleep or pleasant fantasies, but he doubt Ren’d know how to make one.

Ren looked surprised and a little offended. He probably expected a kiss, some mumbled, indirect, yet clear, “love me, love me again and forever, just like before.” Trust Ren to forget real people need air, water, food and shelter more than his grand feelings.

‘If you can transform matter, I’d appreciate some steaks from stones, too—or even vegetables. I’d eat all my vegetables. Vegetables aren’t so bad. Very healthy. Great nutritional value.’

‘You’re out of your mind.’

‘Now you notice?’ Hux laughed. ‘Why? Because I prioritise my survival over your…confession, admission, whatever. I’d think it’s rather rational. Whatever way the Force and dying work for you, they certainly won’t work the same way for me.’

Ren’s brows knitted for a moment. He disappeared, Hux blinked, surprised—and Ren appeared again, this time a breath away from him. Air formed into blueish fingers which trailed along Hux’s jaw and lifted his chin. They weren’t cold.

This not-quite-Ren bore his eyes into Hux’s face, searching. He gulped.

‘You’re afraid of death,’ announced Ren after a while.

Hux laughed. ‘That’s this great secret you tore from my soul? Of course I fear death. We were escaping death all my life—Arkanis, Jakku, Starkiller, Supremacy, my betrayal of the Order—what do you think we—I was escaping from?'

Ren’s almost-finger slipped on Hux’s lips and that was enough to silence him.

‘I know,’ Ren sounded frustrated. ‘But you’re fearing death, you’re afraid to die, _now_. You’re…’ he hesitated. ‘…in danger. Injured, really injured, why didn’t you tell me before? I was standing there for hours and you ignored me and pretended everything was fine, you were joking about me killing you, while I—I really might…’

Of course, he didn’t finish. He kissed Hux instead, sloppily, like a comfort-seeking child. And of course, he had assumed Hux was “joking.” Arguing with him. Typical. Statistically.

‘Ren,’ mumbled Hux, when he finally was able to catch a breath and a little space to turn his head, ‘you almost killed me many times before. I could hardly think you care. I still expect to be sacrificed to some ancient Dark Force Lord at any moment.’ And he didn’t want to admit the extent of his injuries in the presence of the potential enemy—some unknown, afterworld force.

‘I’m not “Ren,” anymore.’ Aha, no, it’ll be “Ren” forever, thought Hux, while _Ren_ turned his face and started kissing again, his voice wavering between some sheepish apologising tone and a darker, more familiar note. ‘I told you, I… I’m so sorry for what I did to you before. It’s just—it’s sometimes so hard, when you have the power, and you, you were so scared, it was so hard to stop, when you are, were, like this…’

‘So it was all my fault?’

‘No! Please, could you just stop—I’m trying to _help_. Recalling how it was back then, helps me to find... Just. Let me. Trust me. Just this one time. Please. I can’t. Can’t have _yours_ on me, too. Please.’

So it was all about Ren’s poor, heavy conscience? Fitting. But Hux wasn’t going to turn away any help—and when he stopped defending himself from Ren’s attempts to caress (so clumsy now, when they try to be tender, not mixed with violence) and paid attention to his own body, he indeed noticed a difference. It felt a little stronger, cleaner, _better_ , the pulsing in his leg and palms dimming with every one of Ren’s touches and long half-licks, half-kisses.

Ren could have his father, uncle and mother on his conscience, but he hesitated to add Hux to the list. Hux wasn’t delusional enough to think it was really because he was so special to _Kylo_ , no, he was simply good at surviving and fell at the end of the line, when Ren apparently got tired of all that carnage… But it was still a nice lie to tell oneself, pretending to be more important, at least for this mess of man (and now ghost), than the famed Han Solo or Luke Skywalker. 

‘You’d never stop simply because I asked you. Before.’

‘Did you ever try to heal me, before?’

A heavy sigh was his only answer. Ren, Ren, never the one ready to face his past actions.

It was all pretty surreal—but, in a bizarre way, more real than Hux’d imagined the interactions with ghosts or Force-projections, like Skywalker’s, to be. Ren’s skin wasn’t cold or not-substantial, it felt just as solid and warm as ever; perhaps thanks to some mind-trick. There was just a little buzz, similar to the static in the air over electronic devices. Nice, actually, now, when Hux’s head was clearer and his body, gradually healed, could focus on processing things like kisses on the neck, touches on the ribs and thighs, and light vibrations everywhere, as though Ren—the Ren-like shape, whatever it truly was—would permeate him.

‘It is nice, right?’ Ren sounded triumphant.

Hux immediately sobered. Yes, getting his injuries treated was progress, but there were still a lot of things to do, if he didn’t want to just die _healthy_.

‘Very. What about boiled water and vegetables? And that steak, if you were kind enough.’

‘Later. I’ll think how to organise it. You should rest.’ Ren placed his chin on the top of Hux’s head. The bluish tingle and the paintings at the other side of the room visible through it were getting rather unsettling, combined with the feeling of a warm, material—if a little buzzing—presence, so Hux just closed his eyes. ‘I’ll go find some help.’

‘What help?’

Ren must have heard the alarm in his voice, because his next words were delivered in a lower, slower tone, the one he—wrongly—thought to be soothing.

‘It’s a huge galaxy. A lot of organisations and planets far enough from the Hosnian System to not hold a grudge. They’ll gladly rescue you in exchange for some ships’ designs or something like that. And Dameron wouldn’t mind paying his debts, too.’

‘I’m not going to beg—’

‘So it’s good I’ll be the one doing all the negotiating, right? And not with them,’ Ren added quickly, probably expecting the prospect of him negotiating to only distress Hux more. ‘With Rey and, er, my family. Ask them to ask friends who have friends et cetera. Me and my parents, we… tried to repair things between us.’

‘Post mortem?’

‘It goes just as well as it did when we were all alive.’ Ren actually laughed a little. ‘But they won’t mind helping you, for me. I think they’ll be happy I care. About any of my ex-subordinates. You, especially.’

Ah, so Hux’s well-being was just a card in a game of Ren’s relationships and image? Well, it was expected and so, even if it still stung, Hux wasn’t going to protest. He didn’t enjoy the thought of death, Ren got that right.

‘I’ll believe it when I get my steak, transport from this ghost town and a nice job offer. Or half a dozen offers. I’d like to have some choice.’

Hux almost wanted for Ren to say half a dozen is too much, just so he could use the “it’s less than one for every ten times you threw me at the wall” argument and listen to another round of this “it wasn’t me, but I’m sorry” nonsense. It was getting funnier, now, when he wasn’t so concerned about dying.

Alas, Ren didn’t take the bait. He just shook his head—Hux felt Ren’s hair moving, tickling his face; whatever kind of illusion-projection-ghost this was, it was impressively detailed—adding:

‘And vegetables. They’re healthy. I remember. Something else? Champagne, so you could toast to the miracle of your continued survival?’

‘I’d prefer something stronger.’

One of Jakku’s cocktails, if Hux was honest. He wouldn’t have lived so long—through the first years in the Unknown Regions, even—without valuable lessons from that wild pack, and it was only fair to let their ghosts take part in some symbolic celebration, too. They definitely had done more for Hux’s survival than Ren. Ren had been more of a threat. Remained so, even as he fussed over Hux and made the fire blaze stronger before kissing him. Hux responded, this time mostly out of curiosity; this electric-like static filled his mouth and anaesthetised his tongue, like a too-hot tea, but except for this, the kiss felt just as hungry and self-focused as usual—disappearing into thin air, with “don’t get bored without me” lingering strangely long in the small space.

Ren, run by his whims, might change the side of the conflict at any time, and then, he’d without doubt return to seeing Hux’s fear and pain as desirable. Hux somehow doubted Dameron, that girl or Ren’s family of ghosts would be eager to save him, then. And whatever job he might get after escaping this moon, it probably wouldn’t help him against Force-spectres.

…What might help him, though, was another Force-ghost, or knowledge taken from and about them. In search of which, some ancient temple or tomb of a Dark Side Lord, like the one where Hux happened to sit now, seemed like a pretty good starting point. And he was no longer incapacitated by his injuries.

Hux grinned a little. Bored? Oh no, thank you; he absolutely wouldn’t plan to be.

**Author's Note:**

> <3 <3 <3 For Evilmouse for helping me with grammar!


End file.
